33d demi-brigades were borne past him, and he saw
that, of those banners, there remained but a stick and a few rags,
riddled with balls and blackened with powder, he took his hat from his
head and bowed.

Then, when the march was over, he dismounted from his horse, and, with
a firm step, he walked up the grand stairway of the Valois and the
Bourbons.

That night, when he was alone with Bourrienne, the latter asked: "Well,
general, are you satisfied?"

"Yes," replied Bonaparte, dreamily, "everything went off nicely, didn't
it?"

"Wonderfully well."

"I saw you standing near Madame Bonaparte at the ground-floor window of
the Pavilion of Flora."

"I saw you, too, general; you were reading the inscription on the arch
of the Carrousel."

"Yes," said Bonaparte, "'August 10,1792. Royalty is abolished in France,
and shall never rise again.'"

"Shall I have it removed?" asked Bourrienne.

"Useless," replied the First Consul, "it will fall of itself." Then,
with a sigh, he added: "Bourrienne, do you know whom I missed to-day?"

"No, general."

"Roland. What the devil is he doing that he doesn't give me any news of
himself?"

We are about to see what Roland was doing.

CHAPTER XLV. THE FOLLOWER OF TRAILS

The reader will not have forgotten the situation in which the escort of
chasseurs found the Chambery mail-coach.

The first thing they did was to look for the obstacle which prevented
Roland from getting out. They found the padlock and wrenched off the
door.

Roland bounded from the coach like a tiger from its cage. We have said
that the ground was covered with snow. Roland, hunter and soldier, had
but one idea--to follow the trail of the Companions of Jehu. He had seen
them disappear in the direction of Thoissy; but he believed they were
not likely to continue in that direction because, between them and the
little town ran the Saone, and there were no bridges across the river
between Belleville and Macon. He ordered the escort and the conductor
to wait for him on the highroad, and alone and on foot, without even
waiting to reload his pistols, he started on the tracks of Morgan and
his companions.

He was not mistaken. A mile from the highroad the fugitives had come
to the river; there they had halted, probably deliberating, for the
trampling of their horses' hoofs was plainly visible; then they had
separated into two troops, one going up the river to Macon, and the
other descending it in the direct